


Donor

by Luna_Roe



Series: A Witcher and a Druid [10]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghost from her past, How do I tag?, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Roe/pseuds/Luna_Roe
Summary: It had to take. It had to. Time was running out. It just had to take!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Witcher and a Druid [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600168
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43
Collections: Interesting Character and/or Interesting Relationship Development





	Donor

_Novigrad_

Geralt had been called to the city of Oxenfurt. There was an issue: women were going missing. No bodies had been found. No evidence of their deaths, but also no evidence of their life either. There were a few clues to what happened, the scenes left behind where the women had been taken were quite telling. And so, looking into it, Geralt was certain this would end up being more trouble than the reward could ever pay. But he took the contract and that was the end of it.

I had been headed to Novigrad for some supplies that I needed for my little village. We parted ways after a night of our usual love making and a heated departure kiss. He had held my body tight to his and kissed me with such passion that my lips were kiss swollen from one encounter before we parted ways. It was getting harder and harder to leave him. I wanted nothing more than to go with him to Oxenfurt and just be by his side. But my little village needed me to get those supplies.

There were plenty of people out and about in the city and it wasn’t even noon. My basket held quite a bit of herbs and supplies for poultices. The routine I was on was familiar: I was headed to the Passiflora. The madam had requested me personally when she found I was in town. One of the girls must have caught something from a John.

Guards whistled as they saw me turn the corner to the brothel. Their minds clearly in the gutter. With a roll of my eyes I walked up to the building as was met with terrified screams. Forgetting all sense of self-preservation, I rushed towards the source. One of the girls was screaming for help! My basket forgotten and my skirts bunched in my hands I went as fast as my legs would carry me.

Others from the Passiflora heard the commotion as well. Johns coming to help in nothing but their undergarments and guards from further out rushing with weapons drawn. I was the first through the door and the sight I was met with was horrifying. No one but the girl was there, but she was cut… open…

The look in her eyes… the utter fear… After a split second of frozen fear, I turned and blocked the way in the room. Snapping directions at the Johns to pay their courtesan, dress and go home; the guards were to look for anyone fleeing with blood covered clothes or hair, and then I slammed the door shut.

The woman was sobbing still but was attempting to hold in the cries. I gently walked to her and said, “I’m here to help. Tell me, were you awake when this happened?” She cried out a soft ‘no’. I nodded and began washing my hands. “I’m going to do my best to help you. Try to stay calm and stop crying. The slower your heart beats right now the better.”

Hair pulled back and hands washed I began examing the damage to assess if there was anything to be done. Everything, every cut, was precise. It was methodical. Surgical. And that’s when I realized, she was missing an organ: her uterus. The ovaries were left, but her uterus was gone… just like….

~~

_Oxenfurt: Two Days Later_

He was at a dead end with the contract. Whoever or whatever was taking the women was long gone. No clues as to where. So, as he sat at the bar with his drink the Witcher just wanted to muse over what he did know about this case and see if he could glean where to go next.

However, a messenger burst through the doors and announced, “I have a missive for Geralt of Rivia! It’s urgent!” The man had a level of panic in his voice that let Geralt and all the other patrons know that the missive was important.

He cleared his throat and held his hand out. In a split second the missive was in his hand and the messenger’s ghostly pale face said, “Please help, sir.”

Geralt cocked a brow and opened the missive. There, in beautiful calligraphy, was Valaria’s writing. The words she sent him weren’t of a loving nature, or even erotic, but rather they were haunting.

_My Dearest Geralt,_

_No time for formalities or pleasantries. Something has happened in Novigrad. A courtesan was attacked. When she woke, she had been cut wide open and her uterus was missing. Guards found no one and there are no clues as to where the attacker fled._

_I needn’t remind you of the story I told you while we were with the Archgriffins. This is exactly like then. She had no idea what was happening. The goblet of wine on the end table was tested and it had a small dose of nightshade in it. Enough to put her to sleep but not kill her. She woke after the attacker was long gone._

_I know you are working a contract right now. I would never ask you to postpone your work if it were not gravely important. Please, Geralt, come to Novigrad. I’m staying at the Passiflora to help the girl heal._

_Ever Yours,_

_Val_

_P.S. Hurry, I’m scared._

~~

_Somewhere Unknown_

With a happy grin he finished his work. The transplant would, gods be kind, take hold this time. He was certain the failures were because of the age of the subjects. The donor had been young and that would make all the different.

The test subject was still unconscious, and as they slept, he stroked their hair and whispered, “Now, don’t disappoint me.”

~~

She was asleep, and that was the best I could do for her. I had stitched her back together. The thing is, she wouldn’t be _that_ physically scared from the attack. The attacker had cut with the lines of striation in the muscle, meaning that the healing process would be faster. The muscle would knit together faster and the scar would fade in no time. It wouldn’t hurt her business at all. The incisions were expert, and the disturbed mind that had done the horrible deed had even thought to cauterize the right places to prevent her organs from dying while exposed.

That didn’t mean she hadn’t lost a lot of blood. Nearly too much blood. She was pale and weak. If I hadn’t known what to do, she would have died before a doctor could have been called.

“She’s remarkably lucky that you were here.” Came the comment of the physician that had been called for. I gathered that he was a regular and, therefore, would keep silent about what happened. He wanted to ask how I knew how to save her. He wanted to ask why an herbalist was able to stitch that girl back together as if she were a surgeon.

He leaned against the table where I was working on a poultice for the poor girl. His eyes bore into me as I worked. He seemed to be attempting to see into my mind, read what I wasn’t telling him. “Stop it.” I said through the silence, “I’m not your patient.”

He nodded his head, conceding to my words, “True, not my patient. But you did save my patient. And you’re working tirelessly to alleviate her pain. You refuse to leave the room.” He paused and with a gentle, steady hand stopped my own from working, “You know something about this. You know who attacked her.” My eyes looked to his and the pleading behind them told him that he was dangerously close to the truth. He blinked and a wash of horror crossed his face, “Gods, you know because it happened to you.”

I ripped my hands from under his and stepped back from him, “You’re looking too far into this. I’m just concerned for the poor girl.” My voice was shaky as I added, “I was the one to find her. I feel a sense of responsibility.”

He nodded, backing off, “I won’t tell.” He checked on the girl when she stirred slightly. Once we were both satisfied that she wasn’t waking up, he added, “That message you sent, was it for help?”

I nodded, returning to the poultice work, and said, “I’ve called for a friend, a Witcher.”

He nodded and asked, “In the meantime, what do you need?”

I sighed, wanting the man’s attention on anything but me, “If you want to help, I need more celandine. It will ease her pain.” The man gave me a confused look and that’s when I realized that I hadn’t notice his accent before. “You’re not from here. Um…” I thought on it for a minute and clarified, “It’s also called swallow’s herb or herba zireael.”

He nodded in understanding and said, “I’m familiar with swallow’s herb. I can get that for you.” He grabbed this bag and headed for the door, before he left, he paused halfway out and said with a sad look on his face, “I hope your Witcher friend can find the monster that did this.”

I didn’t look up from my work. As my hair fell in my face, covering my eyes from his view, I commented, “Me too.” And then the physician was gone.

~~

_Somewhere Unknown_

“Sir, the subject is stable.” Came the lackey’s announcement. It caused him to look up from his notes with curiosity. The subject was stable? Nearly three days since the transplant and the subject was stable.

He cocked a brow and questioned, “No signs of rejection?”

The lackey shook his head and said, “None, completely stable.”

He sighed in relief, “Keep an eye on the subject. If vitals stay stable and there is no rejection, I will move to the next step.” He returned to his notes, instantly updating them with the good news. It was a small victory, but it was a victory, nonetheless. It meant that he had been right. Age played an important role in the first stage. When he was alone, and after his notations were complete, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. If the next step went well, he would feel confidant enough to move from test subjects to the real thing.

~~

_Novigrad: Two Days Later_

She was mending and with the Celandine that the physician had gotten me, she was sleeping soundly. The incisions were infection free and the madam was kind enough to allow her the time to completely heal. I had sat with her the night of the attack and explained what had happened. Other than the physician, I, and Geralt; the madam was the only one to know what truly happened to the girl. Everyone else was told that a John and gotten too rough and cut her up a bit. It was a story that the papers had run with. They were calling him ‘Butcher John’.

A knock on the door sounded softly. My head bolted in the direction of the door and the physician motioned for me to stay put, opting to answer himself. When he did his shoulders stiffened before he stepped aside. There, walking into the room, was Geralt. His eyes examined the room, the girl, the physician, and then me. I knew he could still see the blood that was all over the room and the bed posts. I had cleaned it but to the eye of a Witcher, it must be plain as day.

He saw the bandages on the girl and then walked to me. He cupped my face gently and asked, “How are you?” The physician was taken aback at the gesture he had just witnessed. Geralt noted that as he waited for me to answer.

“I’ve been better.” I admitted, but added, “She’s going to live. For what it’s worth.” The poor girl, and she was _just_ a girl, would never be comfortable in her line of work ever again. And for an ex-strumpet… honest work was hard to find. Her life was ruined unless a man was kind and took her despite it all.

Geralt nodded, and with a soft kiss to my forehead, began looking around the room. He examined the bedposts, the windowsill, and then the floor where quite a bit of the girl’s blood had pooled. I waited for him to be finished, to tell me what he saw that we couldn’t. The physician stepped close to me and whispered, “Friend, huh?”

Geralt stood up from examining the floor and looked to me. He was going to take this mystery; I could sense it. The look of determination in his eyes was undeniable. I knew he needed to speak with me and wanted to do so in private. Though I didn’t want to leave the girl, I was comfortable enough with leaving her in the physician’s hands.

“I’ll keep an eye on her. Go, talk.” He offered as he sat himself in the chair next to the bed. He settled in with a book and began reading aloud. He had started doing that when the girl started having nightmares the second night in. It calmed her, hearing his voice tell stories of happy places and people. A fairytale.

I nodded in thanks and allowed Geralt to usher me out of the room and begin to descend the stairs. His hand was around my back and rested on my opposite hip. Firmly he held on and when we were out of earshot on the side of the Passiflora he crushed me in his arms. The smell of worn leather and the road invaded my nostrils as my arms slowly wrapped around his form in return.

“I didn’t want to head out before making sure…” He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to, I knew what he wanted to ask.

From the confines of his arms I spoke, “I’m as okay, as much as possible… knowing that my attacker is out there somewhere. At it again….”

He held me tighter and said, “I won’t be long. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed the top of my head and added, “You don’t have to, but if there is anything else you can tell me – it would help.”

I sighed and nodded into his chest, of course there was something I hadn’t told him. Something I hadn’t been ready to say aloud. I remember what the man said to me when I woke screaming. As Geralt and I parted, him ushering me to a bench nearby to sit, I began the tale, “I told you that I woke screaming in pain, cut open. Just like that girl up there.” I began to wring my hands as I continued, eyes glued to the ground a few yards in front of me, “I left out what he said when I woke. He covered my mouth to stifle my screams. He shushed me and kept repeating the same thing, ‘Don’t worry, I’m going to make you whole again.’ He… hadn’t taken my uterus out before I woke. I felt everything.”

Geralt stiffened. I hadn’t specified when the attacker had taken my uterus. Clearly, he assumed I had been unconscious for that part. Well, now he knew I hadn’t been.

I took in a ragged breath and continued, “He kept repeating himself, ‘I’m going to make you whole again’. It was as if he was convincing himself more than me. I had never met him before, but it was like he _knew_ me.” Geralt, timidly, ventured to hold my hands. When he stopped them from moving, I realized I had almost wrung them raw.

“Val, I don’t know what to say.” He admitted.

I couldn’t help the hollow chuckle that escaped as I added, “You know, it was like he knew… I joined my circle because I had been disowned by my family.” I looked at his chest, unable to maintain eye contact with his piercing yellow eyes. “Father found a match for me and so the typical tests were done. Tests to determine if I was fit to bear children.” A tear rolled down my face, “The physician found something wrong with my uterus. He said that he had only ever known women with that abnormality to only miscarry. He told my parents I would never carry a child to term.”

“He said he would make you whole again…” Geralt repeated, “Do you think he knew about the abnormality the physician found?” It was a logical jump. I nodded, conceding that it was in fact possible. The physician had a few apprentices, all learning and had access to the medical files. We were quite as Geralt thought over the new information. Once the silence was broken, however, he said something that warmed my broken heart, “He was a coward for turning you away like that.” He cupped my face to make me look in his eyes, “Your worth is not in your ability to bear children.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but words failed me. I wasn’t able to answer him or say anything for that matter. The man before me was so kind to me. We stayed like that for a moment or two longer, and then Geralt stood, “I need to speak to the girl. It’s possible she had the same abnormality.” I nodded in understanding.

~~


End file.
